


No Tiger Left Behind

by queensusan



Category: Calvin & Hobbes
Genre: 16 year old Calvin, Anthropomorphic, Bestiality, Camping, First Time, Friendship/Love, Hand Jobs, Kinda, M/M, Other, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2272851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queensusan/pseuds/queensusan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened to Hobbes when Calvin grew up?  This story explores their changing relationship as they age and how Calvin takes Hobbes with him into adulthood.  *Calvin/Hobbes sexual relationship, please don't read if this idea offends you*</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Tiger Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Congratulatory Pounce](https://archiveofourown.org/works/663403) by [Random_Nexus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_Nexus/pseuds/Random_Nexus). 



> This story is inspired by Random_Nexus' delightful Calvin/Hobbes series. Mine's not a part of her storyline and I think it stands on its own, but it was very inspired by her world and ideas. I was so intrigued by her series and she proposed questions in her story that stayed with me and sparked my imagination (as the very best stories do!). How did Calvin and Hobbes' relationship become sexual? How does Calvin reconcile Hobbes existence when others can't see him? How does he find a way to keep Hobbes a part of his life when the world can't understand a teenager with a stuffed animal? How did Hobbes' body change to become more humanoid? This is my interpretation of the answers to those questions.

"God, finally," Calvin moaned in relief as he and Hobbes collapsed down onto the soft embrace of the sleeping bag. They had to lie close to fit comfortably on it, even though he was sweating from his efforts to erect the tent in the low, humid late summer air. 

"We'd have finished ten minutes ago if you hadn't been such a bonehead," he groused, recalling Hobbes' playful, unhelpful mood and how he'd done his best to turn everything into a game as they'd set up their campsite for the weekend on their own.

A reluctant smile tugged at Calvin's mouth and he felt the tension that had been building up all week release from his shoulders a little. It felt like all the time now the only thing he wanted to do was get away to the welcoming isolation of the woods, where he could finally be alone with Hobbes. Be himself.

Calvin felt the warm pad of a paw on his chin and his head was turned towards his friend. He kept his eyes closed but he could feel the warm, moist kiss of Hobbes' breath on his face.

"You're thinking again, Calvin. It looks painful."

Calvin cracked an eye open and shot Hobbes a narrow look, only to find Hobbes' face contorted up bizarrely, mocking Calvin's painstaking cognitive function. "Is thinking a crime?"

"It is when you think about what you're thinking about," Hobbes said simply, and, expression falling, his paw slid down now to rest gently on Calvin's throat. The tips of his claws brushed against Calvin's jaw, but it was comforting, not threatening. He couldn't help burrowing a little into fingers, so that his cheek was pressed against Hobbes' knuckles.

"I try not to," Calvin said, unable to look at Hobbes. But, oh, how much easier it had been when he was six. Sixteen brought too much reality to his relationship with his best friend. 

Hobbes curled closer, bringing the other arm around now to press against Calvin's thin chest. He nuzzled against Calvin's cheek, his whiskery face tickling and making Calvin squirm and giggle. "Does this feel like a figment of your imagination?" he asked, and then licked a broad stripe up Calvin's face.

Calvin made a show of protesting and trying to shove Hobbes off, but he only put his arms firmly around his friend to hold him tightly. "Tiger slobber!" he howled in mock disgust.

"You like it," Hobbes said airily and Calvin shivered a little, knowing it was true Hobbes gave a few more licks and growls before pulling away far enough to look in Calvin's face. "You're still thinking."

Calvin sighed and looked away, staring through the sides of the tent. "I just... I know this is real, but... how?"

Hobbes gave the long sigh of someone who had been explaining a subject for many years, and likely would be for many years yet. "We've gone over this, Calvin..." he said wearily, but Calvin just looked back pleadingly at him. Hobbes sighed. "I'm real, Calvin, because you made me real. I exist because you brought me into existence. Without you I'd be a stuffed animal, but with you I'm alive. You gave me life."

Calvin wanted to believe Hobbes, with everything in his heart, but reality had a way of turning his faith into fear, and the older he grew the more difficult it had become to ignore. "But... you know that makes you sound like you're part of my imagination. I still don't understand it, Hobbes."

Hobbes stroked his furry thumb over Calvin's throat lovingly. "You're special, Calvin. You can do things other kids can't. You've got more power in here," he said, gently knocking a knuckle against Calvin's temple, "than the President of the United States has in his whole government. You could have created anything, if you'd put your mind to it, but you chose me. You needed me, and I needed you. As long as you still want me, I will live. If you stop needing me, I'll cease to exist."

"NO!" said Calvin sharply, sitting up a little in fear. "No, please, Hobbes," he begged, fingers flying out to grip into Hobbes' short fur. "I'll never stop wanting you. I can't live without you, either."

Hobbes gathered him up into a warm, furry embrace and they comforted each other. Niggling doubts surfaced again, though, as they always did. Having, perhaps, the world's most unique imagination also meant that it was difficult for Calvin to turn it off. But then, Hobbes had always been the steadying one in their friendship. "But..." he said after a while. "It's like you're my slave, then, Hobbes. Do you even want to be here? Wouldn't you rather be... I dunno, in Africa, chasing zebras? Am I stopping you from doing what you want? If I made you, are you even capable of wanting what I don't want? Are you me?"

Hobbes gave a warm, deep chuckle that shifted his shoulders under Calvin's arms. "Calvin, use that brain of yours for once. I often want things you don't want, don't I? Think how boring our lives would have been if we'd always agreed. I've told you. You created me, but you made me a unique entity. I'm part of you in a way , but I'm my own being. I have thoughts and feelings that are not yours or yours to control. _I exist_. You are my creator, not my master. And I'm using my independence to inform you that there is no other place in the world I'd rather be than in this tent with you." 

"So you're... like my son? My brother?"

Hobbes had to bend double to laugh now. "Oh, you can go boil your head if you think I'm calling you 'Dad.'" 

Calvin shoved his shoulder and lay back down. 

Hobbes, incredibly perceptive as always, leaned onto his elbow and watched Calvin knowingly. "You're looking for holes in my reasoning already. You're wondering why I look like a stuffed animal to everyone else, if I truly exist. You're wondering if you really are crazy and this entire conversation is you talking to yourself. Here, I can prove it. I know something you don't know."

Every fiber of himself wanted to believe Hobbes was real. He'd even be satisfied if he _was_ imagining it, if only he could keep Hobbes by his side forever without fear of him disappearing, but the uncertainty of not knowing was slowly driving him more insane than usual, and it only got worse as they got older. “What?”

"Your Mom saw me in your backpack. You left the can opener on the counter and she opened it up to put it inside when you were putting your shoes on, and she saw me. She's seen me in your backpack for a while now, though I never told you. At first she thought it was cute, but you're sixteen now. She's beginning to be worried by how much time you spend alone with just a 'stuffed animal'- or so she thinks. She and your Dad are happy that you've matured so much in other ways, but they're finding it difficult to believe your unwillingness to socialize with other children is healthy. I think they're considering therapy."

Calvin sat up straight in alarm. "Therapy!" he yelped. "Hobbes! Why didn't you say anything sooner? I could have been sneakier."

"I'm sorry, Calvin," Hobbes said sadly. "I was selfish. I didn't want you to stop spending time with me."

Calvin's eyes narrowed. "I'll never let them keep us apart," he snarled, his imagination firing up immediately as he began to plan. They could run away- catch a train heading to Colorado and live in a cave, wearing loin cloths and cooking rabbits Hobbes would catch over a fire.

Hobbes pushed his knee gently. "Stop, Calvin. They're only doing what they think is best. They love you and want you to be a healthy adult." 

Hobbes had always been the wise one. Calvin put his head in his hands and thought desperately. He couldn't go to therapy! What if they did something to his head, made him unable to do things with his mind that he could now? What if he lost Hobbes? "What do I do?"

Hobbes sat up and faced Calvin, his expression unusually sober. "I've been thinking about this for a while and I have a plan. You're sixteen. In just two years you'll be eighteen. We'll get our own place and we'll be able to spend all our time together. We won't have to hide. But now you've got to... do some pretending. You're good at that."

His spirits soared, as they always did when the two of them plotted. With Hobbes nothing felt impossible. "What kind of pretending?"

"You need a girlfriend," Hobbes said firmly, and Calvin's shoulders slumped. 

"A girlfriend?" he wailed. A little part of him was still not sure girls didn't have cooties. 

Hobbes rolled his eyes. He'd always been more interested in the female sex than Calvin had been, though all Calvin had ever heard of his experience had been some vague allusions to smooching in the even vaguer period of time before they'd met. Calvin wasn't even entirely certain Hobbes had technically existed before he'd created him, for that matter, though Hobbes claimed to have had many experiences in that mysterious pre-Calvin time. It made his brain hurt to think about it.

"Yes, calm down, a girlfriend. A _pretend_ girlfriend, mind. Take her out to a movie on the weekends, take her to prom, give her a smooch on her porch when you drop her off home. That sort of thing."

Calvin stared at Hobbes unhappily. "A smooch?" he groaned. "Is that all, or do I have to do more?"

Suddenly Hobbes' bright black eyes flashed dangerously, reminding Calvin that though these days he looked as much like a man as a tiger, he still had the spirit of a wild animal when roused. "No!" he said sharply. "Kissing, that's all. And whatever you do, you can't fall in love with her. You always have to remember that you're doing this for a reason."

Before Calvin could do more than lean away from Hobbes' unexpected ferocity, Hobbes pushed forward with his arms on either side of Calvin's hips so that he was suddenly nose to nose with Calvin. "I'm yours, Calvin, but it goes both ways. That means you're mine too."

Calvin's heart was beating at triple the normal rate now. Hobbes' body heat was pressing around him and his eyes flicked down to his mouth. "Hobbes?" he asked shakily, and to his surprise Hobbes moved in a little closer. Unconsciously his hands rose to touch Hobbes' chest, to feel the muscles under his layer of smooth, short fur.

"Calvin," Hobbes said in a low growl. "Why do you think I look like this? Why do think my appearance has changed over the years, as you've changed?"

It was true, Calvin knew. When he'd been a child Hobbes had been a living version of a stuffed tiger, cuddly and mostly nonthreatening, appropriate for a six year old. As he'd aged Hobbes had grown more ferocious, more like a real tiger when Calvin had found all things terrible and fierce cool. As he'd moved past childhood and into adolescence Hobbes had undergone his most startling change of all, his body morphing from tiger and into some strange hybrid of man and beast, like a human skeleton with a tiger skin stretched over it. His face was still tigerish and he had claws, fur and a tail, but his frame was humanoid. It should have been awkward and repulsive, but it wasn't. Calvin thought Hobbes embodied the best of both species, with his lithe, muscular physique and tawny, beautiful fur.

They hadn't discussed the whys and wherefores of his transformation in depth. Mostly Calvin had just appreciated Hobbes as he was without questioning why. Now he had no answer to Hobbes' question.

"Because this is what you want me to look like," Hobbes said with satisfaction, his sharp teeth closing swiftly around the words. "This is what you desire. And, if I may be so bold to say so, I really can't blame you. You have excellent taste."

"Hobbes," Calvin breathed, and he knew his face was flaming red with alarm and reluctant arousal. A part of him, a part he did his best to ignore every day, did desire Hobbes, in a way that didn't feel wrong but did feel new and uncomfortable. 

As if Hobbes could read his mind, his eyes grew heavy and his tiger mouth curled up into a human smile. "Calvin," he purred, and it sent pleasure straight down from his ears to his cock. Calvin's head tipped back and his eyes closed unconsciously. "I know you think about me when you touch yourself."

Calvin moaned and shook his head a little, but he couldn't deny it. He'd been masturbating covertly under the blankets for years now after Hobbes had fallen asleep, and though he'd known there was a good chance his friend had overheard him sometimes, in an unusual show of respect Hobbes had never mentioned it. It had been one activity the two of them never shared, and as far as Calvin was aware Hobbes had no sexuality of his own, beyond occasional misty eyes over 'babes.' But that hadn't stopped Calvin from dreaming of Hobbes, of his graceful body and smooth skin. He imagined touching Hobbes in places he never did, between his legs where his testicles hung proudly below the sheathed shaft of his prick.

"I lie awake and listen to you, imagining it was my hand on you instead. How you'd whimper and moan in my ear and pull my fur. I think about fucking you, pushing your legs wide and sinking right into your little hole until you scream my name."

"Hobbes!" he gasped in shock, but he was panting now and the hands he'd pressed to Hobbes' chest were grasping and kneading desperately. His hips were jerking and trembling against his will. Hobbes was so close to him. "Hobbes, yes," he whined, beyond caring what was real or right, caring only about right now.

Hobbes was on him in an instant, clever fingers pushing and yanking his clothes down and aside so he could climb over and cover his slim, bare body with his larger, muscular frame. Calvin's legs spread instinctively so that his thighs clamped around Hobbes' warm sides. The fur was smooth but when Hobbes moved between his tender thighs it rubbed and tickled. Hobbes buried his face in Calvin's shoulder, licking and biting softly at his skin while his hips thrust down against him. Calvin was startled and delighted to feel a slick, hard prick pressing up against his own cock.

"Hobbes," he gasped, and wrapped his legs snugly around his waist so his could pull him closer. "I didn't know you could-" he said, but trailed off, uncharacteristically shy.

"Oh yes," Hobbes purred and gave Calvin what he wanted, shifting to thrust smoothly down onto him and sending fireworks of pleasure shooting out in trembling pulses from his groin. "Just never in front of you. I thought you were too young."

Calvin moaned and thrust up to meet his friend. "And now?" 

"Now you're just right," Hobbes murmured and reached a hand down between them. The soft, warm pads of his paws snugged around his cock, claws carefully hidden, and within two smooth pumps of his wrist Calvin was crying out and coming, head thrown back and mouth parted in shocked pleasure.

Calvin fell limp afterward, shuddering in the aftershocks while Hobbes stroked him gently through it. When Calvin cracked open an eye he found Hobbes above him, looking as pleased and smug as it was possible for him to look. His prick was still hard and red, glistening with pre-cum between his thighs. Although his testicles and the sheath were lightly furred, the wet looking cock that stood out proudly was smooth and thick. The head was a little longer and more tapered than a human's but it was similar enough Calvin felt confident he knew how to please it. Calvin's palms itched to touch, but he wasn't sure if he was allowed.

Hobbes solved the problem by grasping Calvin's limp wrist and bringing his hand to his cock. It was all the encouragement he needed. He threw himself into it, pumping his tight fist over Hobbes until the tiger was shivering and contorting in a feline fashion, writhing with pleasure. His breath was hot against Calvin's temple, his sharp teeth bared around his gasps. When he came he did so with a roar that was part human and part animal and it sent thrills of arousal that reverberated through Calvin.

"I thought you wanted to fuck me," Calvin said when Hobbes had collapsed back on top of him, his lean, muscular body quivering and heaving with his breaths. Already Calvin's young cock was stirring, getting ready to go again.

Hobbes gave a long, growling groan. "That and more," he said, part threat, part promise, and all love.


End file.
